Destinies
by EarlyLearningCentre
Summary: Arthur and Merlin aren't the only ones with destinies and Merlin and Morgana aren't the only ones with magic. Arthur may unite Albion but he needs someone else to bring peace to it.


The day before she died, Gwen's mother Eleanor gathered her grubby, little daughter onto her knee and told her why she'd given a name fit for a princess to the daughter of a blacksmith.

As far as Gwen's seven year old mind could remember, whenever she'd inquired as a child why she'd been lumped with unspellable, unpronounceable name, her father would laugh falsely and say his wife had lost a bet. Then her mother would smile awkwardly and avoid her daughter's accusing eyes as she spoke of long lost relatives and old promises.

Gwen had never believed them. She always knew when her parents were lying, she always knew when anyone was lying. It was one of her gifts.

She'd never pursued her parents over their lies though. She'd always chosen to cross her arms and to pretend to sulk earnestly until her father came over to tickle her out of it. A true answer wasn't worth a fight and even at seven Gwen preferred peace. It was far too hard to be angry with the parents who so dearly loved her and it wasn't as if anyone ever called her Guinevere. It was far too much of a mouthful, Gwen was much easier.

She hadn't asked about her name in years when her mother brought up the subject but she didn't find it strange. She could sense there was some importance attached to the information, some real meaning that her dreamy, adoring mother needed to impart to her.

She was right.

Gwen had always known that her mother had almost died when she was born, that her birth had ensured that there would be no others. It was an unspoken fact that lingered in her parents' doting love and fierce protection. Gaius, the Court physician had called Eleanor's survival miraculous, almost magical and had often repeated that judgement when asked though in later years he'd been careful not to say the last word too loud. Since Igraine's death four years after her birth and five years after the birth of Prince Arthur, even the very mention of magic could be enough to loose you your head.

Gwen had missed the friendly sorcerers that used to perform in the streets of the lower town. The ones that used to smile at her and call her Lady as they made birds and butterflies appear out of nowhere and land on the outstretched hands of adoring children. Life had become that bit duller once they were gone. But they had been her only connection with magic so she thought and thus the purge had not affected her greatly.

Occasionally she would hope that the latest burning or beheading would not involve one of the funny men with smiley eyes but mostly she got on with her own business of playing near her father's forge and helping her mother round the house. Her parents, particularly her mother would never let her see an execution and fortunately she had no desire to see one.

Death, she felt, was not supposed to be an entertainment.

And death was what her mother was speaking of. The death that hadn't happened seven years ago but according to the strange words coming out her mother's mouth, the death that should of happened. The idea was alien to Gwen. She couldn't imagine a world without her mother. She'd often felt sorry for the King's son Prince Arthur, not just because his father made him watch every execution (for she secretly thought like most boys he would enjoy the disgusting spectacle), but because he hadn't got a mother.

But according to her mother, her beloved mother, soon she wouldn't have one either. Her mother's tale was other worldly and magical but every fibre of Gwen's body told her it was true.

This idea that in the middle of her exhausting labour, her mother had fallen asleep and woke, not in a tiny cottage belonging to a blacksmith with her husband at her side and an increasingly grave midwife, but instead to a beautiful meadow surrounded by trees filled with birdsong. The gurgle of a stream had beckoned to her and in the distance she could see smiling faces she hadn't seen for years.

Her mother, with an earnest face, told Gwen how she'd felt the need to run to them, how with every step she took closer the years and the grime and the pain seemed to slip away like shedding skin.

Seven year old Gwen was no fool and neither was her mother. She knew this paradise place her mother spoke of was Heaven, a gift for the good of heart and it made her stomach sink as she clung to her mother tightly when she realised how close she'd come to loosing her.

There was a strange yearning on her mother's face as she told Gwen about what had happened next, as if she wished that the pale lady with shining golden hair had not stepped out, had not barred her way. It hurt Gwen slightly, this thought that her mother hungered for heaven rather than her despite knowing in the depths of her mind that even a taste of paradise could prove irresistible.

And it didn't matter really, Gwen silently scolded herself as her mother continued, because this lady clothed in all the colours of the sky had stepped out and had stopped her mother. She'd given Gwen a great gift and if she ever saw her, and Gwen felt she would one day, she would thank her with every bit of feeling that her body possessed.

Eleanor had been disappointed by the lady's refusal to let her pass, angry even she whispered to Gwen with a shamed look on her face, until the lady had reminded her of the baby she had not yet birthed. The baby who would grow up to be a beautiful woman, blessed of the Gods and of the Fae, a priestess of the old religion who would bring peace to the land of Albion.

Such information was far too much to take in and in her confusion she honed in on the question that was currently scurrying around her daughter's head.

"Where is Albion?" The lady smiled and Eleanor realised that they were both faintly glowing as her hand was taken and she was helped to sit upon a grassy bank that she wasn't sure was there before.

"It is someone else's fate to create Albion and it is not something you need worry about."

Eleanor still wanted to flee to the faces but her limbs had begun to feel weary and pain was again beginning to gather in the lower part of her body. The details of this place were beginning to disappear and though she tried to cling on, they trickled away like water through her fingers.

"What are you doing? Why are you telling me this?" Eleanor managed to force out through lips that felt thick with a tongue that felt heavy. The lady smiled again, a beautiful smile made up of equal parts of wistfulness and regret.

"Because you have to go back" she said softly. "You have to fill your daughter's heart with love and her soul with kindness, you must ensure that she chooses the right path and uses her gifts for good." The lady's eyes were sad. "Because without you she could be doomed to life dominated by darkness."

The background was now just a green blur but the lady could still be seen in exquisite detail. The next words were a struggle but Eleanor desperately needed their answer.

"What gifts?" She asked, fearing and knowing the answer.

"Magic."

"That could kill her!" Eleanor cried, already deeply attached to the baby that she had not yet held who would grow up to be the daughter shivering in her arms.

"Which is why you must listen to the words I am about to tell you very carefully. This is your time, you do not step into paradise unless you are supposed to reside here and you are supposed to die today."

The words sank into Eleanor's conscience quickly and fear coiled in her belly. Fear that was only slightly eased by the next words.

"But I will not let that happen. I cannot stop death but I can delay him a little while."

"How long?" The question sprang unbidden to her lips.

"Seven is a magic number and I can give you slightly more than seven years. Seven years in which you can hold and love and play with your daughter. Seven years in which" she said, aiming to calm Eleanor "her gifts will not blossom and Uther will not know."

" And after that?" She said, still afraid for her daughter who was so blessed and so cursed by destiny.

A hard look came into the eyes of the lady who had seemed defined by her gentleness. "After that you will return here and your husband must take your daughter and run." Kindness quickly returned as the lady realised Eleanor's obvious fear. " Do not worry, your daughter has a great destiny but she will not be alone. There will be four great destinies shaping this new world, she is only one of them." She smiled softly "a quarter of a whole."

The words were becoming ever harder to speak and the pain was growing . Eleanor couldn't feel the grass underneath her anymore. It was being replaced by a hard bed and in the distance there were echoes of a voice that could belong to her husband. It implored her to keep fighting, to hold on.

"Where? Who?" She gasped as her breaths quickened to cope with the pain.

"She must go to the druids. Tell your daughter to follow her instincts, to follow the light and she will find friends." It was obvious that Eleanor was beyond speaking at this point but her question was easy to read off her face.

"I am the White Fae, I'm of the old religion. But if you want a name for your daughter, you can call her Guinevere."

And with those parting words the shining White Fae disappeared in a swirl of light and Eleanor awoke in the blacksmith's cottage to the anxious faces of her husband and Gaius and the cries of the midwife to push.

Her mother's arms were warm around her but Gwen felt cold inside. Her mother's tale had contained a lot of information but the only thing that Gwen could currently comprehend was that her mother was going to die. That the seven years, the slightly more than seven years that the White Fae had promised were up. That the debt had to be repaid.

"Don't think of it as debt, Gwen." Her mother said, guessing her unspoken thought. "Think of it as a gift. We've had seven years, over seven years together. Don't you think children like Prince Arthur or the Lady Morgana would kill for this chance?"

That didn't help Gwen though. It was a reasonable thought but it didn't help to know that other children had suffered this fate, worse than this fate in the case of the Lady Morgana, before her. It didn't make it any easier when it was your turn to bear it.

Tears welled up in Gwen's eyes and she closed them rather than let the tears escape. Her mother had no such restraint and Gwen could feel the wetness fall onto her dress as her father's strong arms joined the hug.

They sat there for a while, the whole family united in grief but the realisation that this was one of the last times they would all be together dawned on Gwen at the same time it dawned on her mother. Both of them stubbornly refused to let this sorrow define their last moments together and identical brown eyes met in identical determination.

As last days go, Eleanor's would probably rank as one of the best. It was a day spent with all she loved and held dear and in a strange way it was perfect despite knowing how it would end. Just as her life had been she thought. Like the summer it was beautiful but it could not last. And this finiteness didn't bother Eleanor. She'd had her husband and she'd had her daughter.

Her beautiful, destined daughter who was good and kind and very much loved.

She could say that with surety and as she fell asleep, one arm around her husband, her other around her child, she knew that the White Fae, the glowing, shining lady would be proud of her.

My daughter will choose the right path she thought as pale arms welcomed her into paradise instead of barring her way.

The path will be long she thought as she saw the trees filled with birdsong. The path will be hard she thought as she heard the gurgling of a stream. But it will be the right one she thought as fast feet carried her to the long unseen smiling faces.

Elsewhere Gwen woke up in a cold embrace to a world that felt very different from before and learnt her first lesson of magic.

It can't bring back the dead.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I've been lurking round the Merlin Fandom for a while and after Saturday's episode I just had to write. Personally I think Gwen gets a really hard time in Merlin. She gets the worst dresses, the least character development and no independent storylines. Merlin, Arthur and Morgana seem to have all the fun so in my story I thought I'd make Gwen centre stage since she's my favourite character. This is going to be Arwen eventually but I haven't decided who Merlin's going to be paired with (though I have an idea) or if Morgana's going to be evil so please contact me with any suggestions or criticisms. I also might change the title because honsetly pretty bad but I couldn't think of anything else. Thanks again.


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